


The Disappointed Faces of Your Peers

by dapatty, s0ckpupp3t



Series: Oversexed!AU [4]
Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angst and Humor, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-13
Updated: 2012-01-13
Packaged: 2017-10-29 10:52:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/319100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dapatty/pseuds/dapatty, https://archiveofourown.org/users/s0ckpupp3t/pseuds/s0ckpupp3t
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the paperwork, it took less than a minute and a half to fire Mike Pedicone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Disappointed Faces of Your Peers

**Author's Note:**

> Title from MCR. We just needed to write a little bit of plot before we got back to the porn and we love Dewees.

It wasn’t disappointment exactly, not entirely. Nor could any of them really say that in hindsight, there hadn’t been clues. There had been hints of hinkiness. And none of them wanted to part ways like that, but trust was important. They were a family and family just doesn’t do shit like this.

When it happened, it was like a car crash. Quick and devastatingly slow all at once. Something that you couldn’t look away from, no matter how desperately you wanted to. And they did. But they had to see it through.

It only took a few hours to get everything together. Just a few, most of which boiled down to minutes. After the paperwork, it took less than a minute and a half to fire Mike Pedicone.

They didn’t even look at him, just slapped down a sheaf of papers to initial and sign. Hastily faxed things from lawyers with frightening titles. Breach of contract, emergency renegotiation, nondisclosure, severance. A blank police report. A Notepad document that had been printed out, and Pedicone could tell from the font and the way it said “Untitled” at the top - the text of Frank’s blog post. He looked up and they all looked at him with varying degrees of disappointment tucked under controlled expressions.

“There’s an officer waiting outside,” the tour manager said They filed out of the room and left him sitting at the table. A closed-off glance from Frank made him think a punch in the face would have been easier.

Later, he called Jamia. “I wanted to explain. I just needed---”

She cut him off. “It doesn’t matter what you needed, Mike.” Gentle. Precise. Foreign. “And _don’t--_ ” A break in calm, then a breath. Then back to the stranger. “Don’t you dare try to tell me now. Goodbye, Mike.” Click.

At least she told him goodbye, he guessed. It didn’t really make him feel any better. He was pretty sure it wouldn’t.

 

******

Gerard wanted to sing, and scream, and shout, but all suitably violent songs would require a drummer. Goddamnit. Stupid drummers. They needed to audition, already had vetted candidates, but Ray, who had been stonefaced for much of the day, put a hand on Gee’s arm and explained they needed to play together first. It didn’t even matter what.

Gerard nodded. Of course they needed to fucking play together. That was what he’d been itching for.

“Dewees,” Gerard said, in a rush, catching Ray by his forearm.

“Mikey’s getting him,” Ray answered reasonably, like there wasn’t even a question. When Gerard thought about it, there hadn’t been a question in that regard. Dewees was a part of their band. Right?

Gerard nodded, but wandered off in the direction he thought Mikey would be, because right now just looking at Mikey would be reassuring.

 

*****

James was trying to freak out as quietly as possible. Would they be suspicious of him, now? And why. His head was full of why. Why didn’t he know, why didn’t he see it coming, why couldn’t he think of some way to help or prevent this shit?

As solid and supportive as James was trying to be, Mikey noticed. “You know we like you, right?” he asked, a hint of dry humor creeping into his tone. Then it was gone, replaced by something a little more businesslike. “And we want you to rehearse with us in about an hour.”

“But we’re auditioning in three hours.” James tried to point out, but Mikey just nodded and walked away.

Five minutes later, Gerard walked up. Dewees wondered for a moment if Gerard was going to say the same thing. He was, sort of, but less because he’d realized James was freaking out and more because, well, Gerard was.

Gerard chewed the inside of his cheek, and looked down. “You don’t feel. Distanced. As part of the touring band. Do you?”

James tried to look reassuring. “No.”

“And... and if...” Gerard started tugging at his hair, and neck, and mouth. It was a little bit adorably distracting.

But probably not in a healthy way, so James walked over and looked Gerard in the eye. “If something was going on with me, I’d fucking tell you.”

Gerard deflated with relief. Opened his mouth, shook his head, tugged his hair again, and muttered, “Good.”

Dewees pulled him in for a tight hug. Gerard squeaked in surprise but quickly returned it, arms tight around James’ shoulders.

“And dude,” Dewees said, very seriously with some mirth tucked into the corners of his eyes, “I thought we were like besties since I talked you into wearing a bear suit?”

Gerard giggled. “I still can’t believe that shit.”

“Yeah you can,” Dewees smiled.

“Yeah,” Gerard nodded, grinning crookedly back.

*****

Frank, for his part, reread Crooked Little Vein. Twice in a row, at least. Gerard only saw him finish the book, put it down, curse, and pick it up again to start at the beginning once, but he did read it for three days straight, so it was probably more than that.

******

Finally, it was time for rehearsal. Nobody talked about what they were going to play. Gerard felt strange about doing an MCR piece to start, not without Pedicone. At first they were all just noodling. Like an orchestra warming up, and he had to wait, the soles of his feet itching, his shoulders tense. Dewees started with an inconsequential melody on piano then Ray played something new, the riff somehow ringing out a little bit more clearly. It wasn’t one of theirs. Mikey backed it, supporting the line from below. And then Frank kicked in, hard, and it was rhythmic, now, even a little violent. Soothing in how raw it felt, and Gerard realized he knew the first line. He picked up the mic. They were together. It was going to be alright.


End file.
